


we can feel so far from so close

by leonshardt



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (2014)
Genre: Drabble, F/F, Pseudo-Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-14
Updated: 2014-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-13 02:05:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2133009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leonshardt/pseuds/leonshardt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She wanted out, wanted freedom more than she wanted her sister, and Nebula never forgave her for it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we can feel so far from so close

**Author's Note:**

> the only thing i want out of this movie is sister backstory

Once when they were teenagers, Nebula sat on Thanos’ throne while he was away, legs slung across the armrest with lanky confidence. She propped her chin up with her elbows, looking almost comically serious at Gamora below.

“It may look like a fancy chair, but it sure isn’t very comfortable,” she said.

“Yeah,” Gamora shot back. “I’m sure Thanos will be thrilled when he gets back.”

Nebula smirked. “Perhaps, sister. In the mean time, would you care to join me?” She extended her hand, and after a moment Gamora took it, pulling herself up on the throne. Gamora smiled as she slid into Nebula’s lap, legs tangling together, pressing her back against the chair’s stone arms.

“You’re right,” she said, her mouth inches away from Nebula’s. “I can’t imagine how he tolerates sitting in this thing for as long as he does.” Nebula laughed, a low, clicking sound, and back then it was probably the greatest thing Gamora had ever heard.

That was a long time ago.

  


Nebula is still alive, as far as Gamora knows. It takes a lot to kill a daughter of Thanos; she may be gone for now, but she will be back. She will always be back for Gamora.

Maybe it was just fate that Nebula would always be twisted around her like steel wires, across time and space, coiling tighter and tighter and never letting go. Gamora might be okay with that though, because it’s not like she’s letting go, either.

  
  


Nebula once told her that they were of the same kind, strays wolves picked up and molded into living weapons by Thanos’ cruel generosity. Both forged assassins, both finding something close to family in each other. Turns out, Nebula was wrong about that: Gamora was different. Maybe she always had the capacity for heroism, but it seems so ridiculous in hindsight: in such a short span of time she learned to love life, and she learned how to dance in a spaceship with friends.

She wanted out, wanted freedom more than she wanted her sister, and Nebula never forgave her for it. Nebula does not forget. To her, people were only either useful or disposable, but Gamora was something outside of that. Something in between: a wild card, or an outlier.

A partner. And now a traitor.

  
  


Back then, they were the best and the brightest fighters in the ring, lethal and efficient and so, so desperate for Thanos’ approval. They would pull off the trickiest assassinations together, never quite believing the stunts they got away with. Gamora’s deadliest with a knife and sword, but she was never able to match Nebula’s skill with a gun. Nebula can snipe a man from a mile away without so much as blinking, ending the mission before the limp body even hits the ground.

“It’s like sparring,” Nebula says, while swiftly breaking down the rifle into its collapsable components. “Except the other guy never gets the chance to strike back.”

Gamora tilts her head back, contemplative. “You and me, sister, in a real fight to the death-- who do you think would win?”

Nebula flashes a smile like a knife, and slings her gun across her back in a loose motion. “It’s hard to say, sister. You know I fight dirty.”

Gamora grins back. “So do I.”

They fuck in the cargo hold of a ship, filthy and violently desperate, riding out the rush of endorphins like a wave. Gamora hisses when Nebula digs her fingernails into her shoulders, leaving a trail of crescent marks on her flesh like stars. They come against the hum of the engines, so rough that it almost hurts, burning like a good day of fighting. They lay there for a long time after, breathing each other’s air, learning the hard edges of each other’s bodies. Gamora traces the outlines of the cybernetic plugs that are implanted into Nebula’s spine, the exact same steel rods that mirror her own. Slowly, Nebula presses her lips together and plants a kiss in the very dead center of Gamora’s forehead.

“You wouldn’t even have a chance,” she whispers, and Gamora silently stares back.

  
  


Three weeks after Ronan falls and Gamora sits outside the ship, chowing down freeze-dried rations while watching little Groot sway happily in the sunlight next to her.

“If only we could all grow back like you,” she says, tickling the top of Groot’s head with her finger.

Groot squints and bobs his head. “I am Groot,” he says, and there is concern in his voice.

Gamora sighs. “It’s just that I remembered something, that’s all,” she says quietly. Groot blinks his tiny black eyes at her, and she shrugs, pulling her knees up to her chest. “Is it possible to miss something you never had?” she asks, mostly to herself.

“I am Groot,” Groot says, and Gamora pokes him in one of his tiny twig arms.

“I will be alright,” she says. “It will just take some time.”

 


End file.
